Happily Ever After
by msgrits
Summary: Gris and Sara have settled down after overcoming a number of obstacles. It seems that all is well. But is it? He tried not to be like his father. He worked hard. He kept his word. He didn’t trample on the hearts of women
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is s sequel to Smoldering Desires which can be found in it's entirety at Adult FFnet.**

**Thanks to Joan. I am so sorry I made you read this. I was not thinking. Kisses. Kudos to the terrific beta combo or Cybrocat and Michelle. As always I own nothing related to CSI save for my Companion. **

Chapter 1

When he finally lumbered into the home they shared, he found two suitcases by the door. She had insisted on the leather things. He would not travel all over the country, recently the world, looking like a vagrant. He had a wife. He should look like such a man.

No matter what he had done, she could not stop being his wife.

The cases held two white monogrammed shirts, two pair of khakis, three pair of cufflinks, two black polos, one pair of black pants, brown loafers, black loafers, black socks, white socks, tennis shoes, a black suit folded in such a way as not to wrinkle, various hair products, the only soap that did not aggravate the eczema that appeared on his hands during the winter, the proofs for the books he was working on, vitamins, blood pressure medication and three books he was currently reading. The Harry Potter he only read out loud to Hope, editing out the parts that were too mature for a six year old..

She met him at the door. She kissed his cheek. Old habits. She handed him a slip of paper with his reservation number jotted down in her precise, even hand. The Luxor wasn't cheap. Neither was it top shelf. Just right for a man who could afford it, but needed to conserve resources if he ended up having to support two households. One, that of a solo bachelor. The other, that of a wife and child.

He continued to nod as she folded the paper and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

"I called Brass and Dana. If you don't want to stay in a hotel you can go there."

He knew that. He didn't want to see anyone for a few days. She knew that too.

He watched her as she told him what she would say to Hope. He was staying in the hotel because of work. He needed the quiet to finish his book. No, she didn't bother Daddy. Don't be silly. He loved her. He just needed some quiet time, like Hope when she was in the backyard looking at the clouds. Aren't we a family who values space from time to time?

"_Daddy knows you love him, even when you are in the backyard barely talking, looking at the clouds."_

He nodded, thinking that he didn't like the explanation, but having no other suggestions and not feeling like he had any rights with regard to his current situation.

Her name was Eva and he had not slept with her. She worked at the university. She was a zoologist. They had gotten to know one another over coffee and field work war stories. At first, he'd told Sara about their lunches and the conspiratorial gossip in one another's offices.

After the fourth week of knowing Eva, he had stopped speaking of her. Gone were the casual references to what Sara dubbed as the other Catherine and a new Dana. When she called the other woman to invite her to Gil's birthday dinner, it was with the expectation that Eva would slip into the group like all the strays her husband had collected over the years. When she hung up the phone, she had dialed Brass and Dana when Catherine had not answered.

xxx

James Brass was too old to have kids. He had told his wife Dana that six weeks after Gil had brought her back from the medical retreat center that had healed them both. Stunned, she had broken up with him, but had not left town because she liked her new friends and had no ties back East. Her ex-husband had remarried. Her sisters and brothers were married and living throughout Africa and Europe. All her so called friends had vamoosed once they realized the diamond heiress might die and they were not set to inherit.

Methodically she had explored her options over the next two days. She was rich. She wanted a baby. She was over forty. It was time to stop playing make believe. She would never marry again. She didn't want to give birth without the benefit of a husband. There were lots of ways to become a mother. Lots of children who needed a loving parent.

He turned up on the doorstep of her new house looking sheepish, asking for another chance. Maybe he wasn't too old. She told him no thank you, and pushed the door closed.

The got married three days later.

Which is why he now found himself sandwiched between two miniature versions of himself. Dana found it nature's cruel joke that she had gone through a year of brutal fertility treatments to produce two little boys who's skin color and wavy hair were the only tribute to their maternal heritage.

He thanked God for two energetic little boys who still thought he hung the moon even when he couldn't play one more game of catch or watch one more Disney movie.

The bed dipped and he opened one eye. "Stop playing possum." She said quietly.

"Are you kidding me? I am exhausted."

He lifted Isaac Gilbert so that he stopped drooling across his chest. The boy made angry sounds in his sleep and he clung to his father. Brass made soothing sounds and the boy quieted.

"What are we doing for dinner?" He asked as James Maxwell began to snore softly.

"Junk food?" He asked hopefully.

"Double meat pizza with extra cheese is on the way." He smiled and closed his eyes. "What's wrong?"

She looked at the sleeping boys. "Is Gil having an affair?"

Brass opened both eyes. "What…"

"Sara thinks he's having an affair with a woman at work."

Brass stared at Dana for several seconds. "Dane. Hon, Gil would not cheat on Sara. That's nuts."

"When was the last time you talked to him?"

Brass lowered his voice, conscious of the sleeping two year olds. "Um… Sunday after the game."

"Not with everyone around. I mean alone. A guy's deal."

"A guy's deal? When do we have time to do that? Between dance recitals and Little League. Or maybe after Warrick finishes coaching Kramer's basketball team, in between policing the parade of losers that Lindsey drags home. Oh, I know, right after Nicky and Mara do one A.M. feedings with Wilson? We don't do alone. Alone was for years ago. If we needed to say something privately we should have done it then."

Dana mirrored his hushed tone. "Smart man."

xxx

She waited and watched not wanting to jump to conclusions. He kept arriving home five minutes later than the day before until he was scampering in for dinner, breathless and apologetic, kissing Sara first and then Hope, mumbling about grading papers and academic rigor.

Sara asked him to bring the work home. She would help. He agreed. It never happened. By the third month of knowing Eva, he was arriving home under the cover of darkness.

He had only missed dinner five times in as many years. He had stayed true to the promise he had made after his illness. He hardly went anywhere without Hope and Sara. One Wednesday afternoon, when Sara Sidle Grissom had enough, she watched as the clock leapt from one hour to another. At six o'clock, Catherine arrived and Sara handed off one dainty blonde to another, giving a quick hug to one and a sloppy kiss to other.

"Don't be too hard on him," Catherine asked.

"I won't Cath. I won't."

Sara had stood at the door, listening, wondering how long it would take Gil Grissom to see the door cracked a wee bit.

They talked of silly students, of irritating bosses, of long walks in California wine country where they had both grown up. She was older than Sara by about four years, but she didn't look it. She was a vain woman. Botox and microdermobraisin and a eye job had sloughed off a few years. The natural looking blonde hair color lifted and brightened her skin and matched her even white teeth.

Finally she heard it. "Gil, what are we doing here?" Low. Intimate. Sexy.

Silence. A smack of lips. More flesh involved. Sara waited. Another sound of flesh and saliva.

An abrupt movement. "I am a very happily married man."

Who was he trying to convince?

"I know that. Who doesn't know that? I am not trying to steal you from your wife."

"I know but…"

The woman kissed him again and Sara appeared in the doorway.

If you had asked Gil Grissom to recount the scene he could not have given much detail. His wife standing at the door while his arms snaked around another's woman's waist as his lips searched out new territory.

His cool efficient wife, who said she would see him at home and who had turned to Eva with a steel eyed glare.

"If I ever see you near my husband again I will feed you to the lions you are such an expert on. I have a child and a home and a family. You have nothing but some excellent plastic surgery and a good dye job. Don't fuck with me. Gil, you have one hour to fix whatever is going on here."

xxx

He sucked on the ice from his Scotch and watched the hotel room's television screen blankly. The documentary was on ladybugs. The entomologist consultant, a hack as far as Gil was concerned, had provided very little accurate or interesting information.

His cell phone rested on the night stand but he refused to answer it. It was either Warrick, perhaps Nick, certainly Brass and Dana or most probably Catherine. He had been gone a week. The first few days had been quiet until phone calls to his house revealed he was not living there. He was surprised some sort of intervention had not been staged.

The hotel room phone rang and before he could process it he picked up the phone.

"Grissom."

"You should probably change that moniker. Not sure to what maybe dickhead."

Gil poured more scotch in the heav**y** glass the hotel provided.

"What are you doing?" Brass asked quietly.

"Drinking some pretty good scotch and watching TV. What are you doing?"

"Don't be…Geez Gil, are you leaving your wife and kid for this bimbo zoo lady? I have seen said professor and she has more stuff that's fake than real."

Gil nearly le**a**pt to defend his friend but thought better of it. He was drunk but not that drunk.

"I am not leaving Sara for anyone. I am not having an affair."

"Not the way I heard it. The way I heard it your tongue was stuck down her throat when Sara walked in on you two."

Gil gave a guilty sigh. "I have not slept with her."

"Huh…" Brass read Dana's lips as she mouthed something to him.

"So you haven't slept with her. Okay so what's going on? I mean why aren't you talking to anyone? Everyone thinks you are living it up with this woman. That you left Sara and now you shacked up with this uh…what's her name?"

"Eva."

"Notice how close that is to evil."

Despite his borderline inebriation Gil felt a migraine starting behind his eyes. He couldn't say anything in his current state. Then again, what difference did it make? He had no where to go. No one to talk to anyway.

"I am not having an affair Brass."

"Okay so what are you having?"

"I kissed her that one…that's a lie, there was another time. I kissed her twice. Once that day and few weeks before."

"You kissed her or did she kiss you?"

Gil wondered at Brass' intuitiveness. "She kissed me but that's not excuse," he mumbled.

"No it isn't. I am just trying to understand what's going on. If you aren't having an affair why did you leave you wife?"

"I didn't leave. She threw me out."

Brass watched Dana leave the room as one of the boys called to her. "Once again I heard she folded your clothes, packed your things, like you were going on a business trip."

"She was very civil about it all. You know Sara. She's not prone to much temper these days." Gil said quietly. He wanted her to do something. To yell at him. To scream at himTo do something.

"She packed your bags cause she thinks you want to be with this zoo lady. And the not answering the phone was the worst thing she could have done."

Gil downed the last of the liquor.

"When was the last time you talked to her?"

"I talk to her everyday. We have childcare schedules to coordinate." He said sadly.

He wouldn't out on his kid. He wouldn't do a Winston Grissom disappearing act. The first time his father had left his mother had been when he found out about Gil's impending birth. The second time was when his mother had thought she was pregnant again. He never came back. Gil never knew if it was a real false alarm or way for his mother to banish her husband from their lives for good.

He tried not to be like his father. He worked hard. He kept his word. He didn't trample on the hearts of women. He tried to be a good friend, a good husband, a good father. He had taken missteps here and there. Years ago hurting Heather badly. Sometimes being a little too judgmental of Catherine. Too overprotective of Hope.

But mostly he had lived a good life, a life to be proud of, until now.

xxx

She found him in their daughter's room days later. She stood at a door again and listened as he spoke of magical broomsticks and malicious Malfoys.

When he finished the second chapter he smiled closed the book and kissed his daughter.

"You finish writing your book Daddy?"

"Not yet, Princess. A little while longer."

"I want you to come home. I want you to make breakfast instead of Mommy."

"You don't like Mommy's breakfast?"

"Mommy makes good breakfast but you are supposed to make breakfast. Mommy makes lunch and dinner."

A child of order. He laughed. "Tell you what. I will be here in the morning to make you breakfast. Deal?"

Weight shifted on the twin bed. Sara could barely make out the next words. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you and Mommy getting a divorce?"

A sharp intake of adult breath. "Where did you get that idea?"

"My friend, Marcus. His daddy left and moved into a hotel and he never came back. They got a divorce. He said you were getting a divorce. Mrs. Hancock made him do time out 'cause he made me cry."

Gil spoke with a certainty that could only convince a child who wanted to believe. "If Mommy and Daddy were getting a divorce, we would tell you, okay?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. "I don't think you should go back to the hotel."

"Why's that?"

"Cause Mommy cries when you aren't here. Don't tell her I told you. I told Uncle Brass and he calls her every night, but she still cries."

xxx

She let him come back home that night, even let him sleep in the bed with her. He waited until he was sure she was asleep before putting his head down on the pillow. He didn't want to be presumptuous or violate her personal space.

One night when it was far too hot, he woke to find the covers thrown off Sara and piled on him. As he studied her in the moonlight, pleased that she was wearing one of his t-shirts and pair of his boxers, he took note of her changed figure.

Breasts larger than their normal small "B", her belly made flat from a year of Pilates was now round and lush. After he had been sick, his sperm count was low and another baby was a remote possibility. Recently, they had begun to toy with the idea of adoption in response to Hope's pleas and Sara's sense that if one was good, two would be better.

He reached a hand and touched the mound of flesh softly. A baby. He had nearly cheated on his wonderful, pregnant wife. Shit. Thoughts of his father skirted the edges of his mind. He couldn't seem to get it right. He was either unlike him or completely the same.

He sat up and went to turn on the air conditioning.

xxx

Sara heaved nothing into the toilet. She was not surprised to feel him pull her hair out of the way. When she was done, he lifted her easily and carried her shaking back to bed.

He wiped her mouth with the heavy white wash clothes that she ordered from Crate N Barrel.

Ice cold spring water found her lips. She kept the bottles in the freezer. Thawing the frozen bottles in the microwave for 20 seconds before she drank. He had not awakened her when he bundled up an extra chipper Hope for an unusually cold day.

She said nothing about the baby. He had known for three days. She would do it in her own time.

The effort of morning sickness had caused her to sweat through his favorite t-shirt. She had long complained of the holes under one arm. He found it amusing that she now wore it more than he did.

He stripped off the one cotton shirt and replaced it with another. Took off his Spider Man boxer shorts and replaced them with her own cotton boy cut briefs.

He ran a tube of organic lip balm over cracked lips.

"You think you can eat a little something?" He asked.

"What time is it?"

"About nine."

"Oh, no. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Wake you to do what? We have one kid. That's one school. One meal. One non-stop talker. I think I am too old to handle two over-talkers in one morning."

Sara rolled towards him and he pulled her too his chest. He didn't know how to stop being a husband.

"You know. Don't you?" She mumbled into his chest.

"Know what?" He said innocently. "That a few of my swimmers made it through despite overwhelming odds?"

Sara laughed and then spoke wearily. "You love her?"

She felt him stiffen then relax. She was, after all, in his arms. "God, Sara, how can you even ask me that?"

"Because you lied and you were kissing her," she said weakly.

Silence snaked around them for minutes. "I don't love her. I love you."

"What if I hadn't shown up that day?"

"You would still be the only woman I love."

"You don't know that."

He let out a hot breath and he felt Sara's tears wet the front of his shirt. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't showed up. But you did. You did because you know me better than anyone. Better than myself. I will never, ever lie to you about anything again. Nothing. No fleeting attraction. No mild flirtation."

He pressed a firm hand into her back as Sara began to sob in earnest. "I don't want us to be those people. I don't want us to be those people that hardly talk and don't have sex and end up dividing the silver and meeting at Denny's to pass the kids between one another."

He pulled her closer as he tried to figure out how to fix his family.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks to the terrific betas CSINut and Cybrokat. Big ups to CSINut and Unspokenloves for talking me through this chap. Thanks to Toni for making sure my cohesiveness was on the ball. This really struck a few of you. I appreciate your support. Hope the next few chaps affect you in the same way. Your reviews are really helpful, the good the bad and the ugly. Well maybe not the ugly but the good and the bad for sure.**

Chapter 2

Gil Grissom turned the blue invitation over in his hands. It was dotted with cartoon cowboys herding number "1"s. Wilson Stokes would be one on Sunday. There was to be a small, jovial celebration. Nick's and Mara's parents would fly in on alternating weeks so that they could have young Wilson all to themselves.

Gil had never thought he would dread the birthday party of any one single tiny human being. He had not seen any of them since the "incident," as it came to be known in his mind. He could not stand to see the disappointment in their eyes. They had taken care of Sara when he had not been able to, when he had disappeared, waiting to either get better or to die.

Sara watched him as he flipped through the mail. His forehead creased as he read the 4x5 card. For a split second, she had thought it was message from Eva. She now saw that it was Wilson's party invitation. The date was already marked on her calendar.

She sat a cup of strong tea in front of him. You could only find the tea at one store in Vegas, a small shop that only carried high end products from the United Kingdom. She put a small white plate with shortbread cookies in front of him, also from the shop. She put one sugar cube in the tea and stirred. The spoon made a jarring sound as she placed it on the saucer.

Sara was a good wife, a good life partner. He was unclear why she still treated him so well. Maybe she was trying to squelch any replication of her own tumultuous childhood. She would do that for Hope, for the new baby, for herself.

He had been surprised to find the stack of mail on his desk. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually opened his own mail. Sara worked out their schedules and lecture fees. She signed the contracts and figured out how much to charge. No bills came in the mail. They landed in Sara's email account and were paid with a few mouse clicks. At first he thought she was worn out from the pregnancy until he realized that she was afraid of what she might find addressed to him or to them as a couple.

"What does one get for the smallest cowboy?" she asked softly.

"A Shetland pony?" he countered.

She laughed softly and ran fingers through his hair. He didn't feel her fingers leave his hair. He did feel vacant air around him after she had left.

xx

Dana Brass had no illusions about motherhood and marriage. She had been married. It hadn't worked out. Still, there had been enough good in it for her to consider remarriage seriously. Motherhood, however, had been her primary goal. She knew enough about life to understand that total and complete dependency by another human being was not all sunshine and roses. She just hadn't counted on two little people at one time, though the doctors had warned her that multiple births were not unusual when scientists began to meddle with nature.

"_Dane, have you seen my birth certificate? I mean have you seen all those numbers in row. Cause I know how old I am. You don't look your age but you ain't no spring chicken neither."_

The immediate maternal selflessness surprised her. Dana Owens, globe trotting heiress, was now content to sit in her backyard and eat burgers cooked by her husband and shaped into oddly formed patties by tiny brown hands.

Her sweet husband. James Brass had been something of a surprise. She knew he was a good guy, a hard working man. At first, Dana had not been sure she loved him. He was a practical, reasonable choice. He was smart. He made her laugh. He didn't give a toss about her money. He worked hard. He could account for his one child and one ex-wife and she rarely saw his head turned by any woman under thirty. All in all, he was an excellent catch. He would make a good father and husband. Gil Grissom had not exaggerated the virtues of Jim Brass.

When Brass and Dana had celebrated their three week courtship, he told her that he loved her. Dana stared at him with wide brown eyes not bothering to breathe and wondering how she was going to weasel out of the awkward moment. He had laughed and kissed each cheek. He loved her enough for both of them. She would come around.

She had, exactly three days later. She had looked across the café table at James Brass, who'd been conversing with the wine steward about some Australian vintage, when she had been struck by how much she did love him.

"_I love you." _

_He had turned from the steward and looked at her. "Yeah I know. Just waiting for you to figure it out. The 1997 was very acidic. Do you have anything from '98?"_

Now she stood looking at her husband as he and the boys sat on the bed patiently waiting for her to finish with her pre-party inspections.

Gifts for Wilson Nicholas Stokes. Check. Gift certificate to Circus Circus from Jimmy and stuffed horse from Isaac.

Stylish yet casual attire for all Brass males. Check. Denim shorts and different color pullovers for the boys. Jeans and tan button-down for Brass.

Stylish yet casual attire for Brass female. Check. Khakis that showed that if she didn't still have all of it, she had most of it. Sleeveless coral top. Platinum and diamond earrings, platinum locket with picture of her family, low-heeled sandals that showed off freshly pedicured feet.

Lecture on behavior away from home. Check. "All right, boys. There will be no fighting."

"No fighting." The boys repeated, anxious to leave for the party. Their mother had told them that there would be a pony at Wilson's house. The promise of riding it had restrained their behavior for a solid week. Dana had a nice bottle of wine for the Stokes' as a thank you.

"No stealing off of other children's plates."

"No stealing." The Brass boys had huge appetites and sometimes found it more convenient to take from others' plates rather than asking for seconds. There argument was that that they only took food from children who were no longer eating. Their mother was always talking about starving people in other countries. Why did they need seconds when there was perfectly good food to be had all around them?

"No hitting any other children or adults for that matter."

"No hitting."

"You will share your toys."

This was not really necessary; the Brass twins were very generous. They nodded their heads up and down.

"Yes Mamma."

She kissed one chubby cheek then the other. She eyed her husband, who was still seething over Grissom's behavior. "You will play nice with others. Understood?"

"Yes Mamma."

She grinned at Jimmy's perception. "Daddy didn't say it. He got to play nice too."

xxx

A few suburbs away, Sara Sidle Grissom pulled her daughter's hair into a ponytail.

"Mommy I want to wear it down," she protested.

"Yeah I know you do. But you have your father's hair and if you wear it down you will sweat it into a big puff ball once you start playing. Do you want a puff ball?"

"Uncle Warrick's hair is a big puff ball. He's very stylish."

Stylish. The girl had just said stylish. Sara rolled her eyes. "Well Uncle Warrick has more money and more styling products than you currently have at your disposal. He's about to open his own practice. The only thing you practice is ballet, so a ponytail it is for you girly."

"Pink bow on it?" Hope bargained.

"Of course."

Gil watched stood in the bathroom listening to his daughter and his wife. There was nothing new about the conversation. Hope always wanted to wear her hair down for an event. If there would be running, skipping or jumping involved, Sara vetoed it.

He was dragging out his own preparations. For once, his perpetually pink-clad daughter was ready before he was.

"Daddy, come on. We don't want to be late," Hope huffed from the bathroom doorway.

"All right, Princess, just trying to contain the puff ball." He ran mousse through his half damp hair.

Sara leaned against the door frame and brushed a stray blond lock behind her daughter's ear. "Are you still mad at Kramer?"

Hope looked confused for a minute. "Nah. We don't stay mad always."

Sara nodded. "The beauty of good friends."

xxx

Kramer Elizabeth Brown was named after her paternal great grandmother, Elizabeth Kramer Brown.

Catherine had been stunned to find herself pregnant by Warrick. She had been to her see her friend Sandy Blue for her biannual appointment. Some ex-strippers got a profession like Cath. Some of them got married. Some of them got religion. Others, like Sandy Blue, got healthy.

"_Catherine Willows, I do believe you got yourself knocked up. If your aura is correct. Have you told tall dark and brown... No pun intended."_

"_I told you we weren't seeing each other. We did the deed one night. It's been years in the making. We woke up the next morning and decided we were better friends."_

"_Good that you are friends, 'cause you are going to have a baby."_

_So she had been forced to deal with the fact that not only was she pregnant, but five months pregnant, over forty and unattached. It had taken her two weeks to work up the nerve to tell Lindsey and her mother and another two weeks to tell Warrick who had looked at the little bump of stomach that was pressing through her clothes._

"_So you wait six months to tell me this." _

"_I didn't know." _

"_You didn't know. Six months, Catherine. How could you not know?"_

"_Look, when I was pregnant with Lindsey I had to stop dancing like three months out. I was huge. I mean umpo lumpo huge. This month is the first time I have seen hide nor hair_ of this kid."

And so they'd had a baby. Dated and finally gotten married. It was backward but it worked for them.

She was pulled back to present day by Kramer running down the hall. The girl never stopped running. She ran down soccer fields and basketball courts and through their large house.

"Kramer, would you please stop running." Catherine called wearily. Kramer appeared in the kitchen where her mother was rummaging through drawers looking for tape to finish wrapping Winston's gift.

She wore blue shorts and white pullover. Her dark brown hair was corralled into a high ponytail that would not make it through the afternoon.

Catherine and Sara were convinced that God mixed up their daughters. Kramer, born four months after Hope, was tall and leggy. The younger girl was prone to fits of outraged temper when other children were treated unfairly on the playground. Last week she had cornered Douglas Pearson in the boy's bathroom after he had kicked dirt on Roberta Fitzpatrick. The coltish tomboy was also consumed with sports. Her first words had been uttered during the NBA playoffs when she called out "foul."

Hope Grissom was a completely different animal. She danced through life confident that she would day be called upon to tap across a Broadway stage. A pretty girl that would someday be beautiful, she knew how to correct injustices without drawing attention to her retribution. A spider in a bully's book bag. Tripping someone with a dainty foot when they laughed at someone's clothes or new glasses. H, as Kramer called her, dragged home one bullied child after another so that Kramer could teach them the proper technique for a quick right jab followed by an uppercut.

"Where's Daddy?" Kramer asked.

"He's at work. He's going to meet us there."

"Coolly. Is he going to work those weird hours for always?" came Kramer's deep voice.

Catherine handed the child a box wrapped in blue paper. "Nah, in a few years it won't be as bad."

"Let's hurry Mommy. Uncle Gil is bringing bugs."

"Good ole Uncle Gil." Catherine said sarcastically.

xxx

It could have been worse, Gil Grissom told himself. They could have banished him from the group completely. As it stood, there was an aloof coolness than ran through most of the evening. They smiled. No one hugged him. Some avoided his eyes. The men kept their distance lest they be contaminated by the invisible scarlet letter that he wore. It could have been much worse.

He was in the kitchen when Catherine cornered him. The children had ridden the pony and stuffed their faces. Gil was pulling a beer from the fridge on the way to the back yard where Hope and Kramer eagerly awaited the unveiling of a rare insect he had found in the park. Truth be told it wasn't that rare. Uncle Gil and Daddy was still a star in their eyes and he thanked God for starry-eyed little girls that still believed in fairy tales.

He stood and found Catherine's sad eyes on him. Her body trembled with something other than rage and tears pooled on her chin. He wanted to hug her and tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell everyone he was sorry. That he had made a dreadful mistake and that he was going to fix it. He knew that speaking to her or touching her would not soothe the pain he saw etched in her face.

"I thought you were one of the good guys, Gil."

He placed the beer back in the refrigerator and looked at her. His sincere blue eyes nearly caused her to turn away. "Me too, Catherine. Me too."

He walked out and into the back yard.

Hope was that last one to fall asleep. Jimmy and Isaac slipped into fitful slumber just as the Disney movie started. Wilson had lasted another 30 minutes, determined not miss one single moment of the festivities. Kramer succumbed soon after, her long body draped across her father's. When Hope's mouth fell slightly open and her breathing slowed Gil stood took her to the spare bedroom where Kramer and the twins slept.

He held her close to him and he tried to position her next to Kramer in the king-sized bed. She dug her fingers in his back and mumbled sleepily.

"No Daddy. Don't want you to go. Finish your book here."

Eventually he managed to soothe the fretful child. He watched for a bit to make sure she was indeed asleep. Once he closed the door he had let out a silent howl of pain, pressing his face against closed door. He cried soundlessly for what seemed like hours, though it was in fact minutes.

He wondered if his family would be better off without him. Hard pain thumped through his chest as he thought of his five-year-old self waiting on the front steps for his father to come home. He slid down to the floor as salty tears ran into his mouth and wet his beard.

Dana's presence startled him. She slipped one arm through his and squeezed his hand. He didn't have the energy to return the gesture.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Happily Ever After **

**Chapter 3**

Sara Sidle Grissom was a scientist. As a result, she approached problems with a critical eye. That is what she did the day after her husband moved back into their home.

She pulled out her slim, silver, initialed pen and one of Gil's small sketch pads. She needed to literally put pen to paper.

Goals

To Save My Marriage

To Make My Marriage Happier and Stronger

To Provide a Safe Loving Home For My Children

What I Know

I know that my formerly faithful husband has kissed another woman.

I know that this affair went on for at least three months.

I know that my husband has never had another affair.

What I Suspect But Have No Evidence

I suspect that this woman wants to break up my marriage.

I suspect that she has tried to contact him.

I suspect that he spent time with her while away from home.

I suspect that he is going through some sort of mid-life crisis.

Reasons He May Have Done This

Bored with the sexual and emotional aspect of our relationship.

Not bored with our relationship but flattered by another woman's attention.

No longer finds me sexually attractive...differs from bordeom

He's a low down dirty dog.

What can I do?

Maintain maximum level of parenting by spending more time with Hope.

Maintain maximum level of parenting unborn child through healthy eating, pre natal yoga, reading and talking to the baby. Must not let stress level affect baby's emotional and physical development.

Make sure that I am at maximum level of physical attractiveness. This will include but not be limited to weekly manicures and pedicures, natural semi permanent rinse to boost shine and cover gray,

Purchase stylish maternity clothes, purchase book and other media regarding sexual pleasure.

Research counseling to Gil. If he does not want to come, attend counseling myself.

xxxx

She was beautiful if not a little too perfect looking. Colleagues, both single and married brought her coffee in the morning, took her to lunch, walked her to her car even when it was still light outside and generally made it known that they were interested in more than work.

Gil was not surprised that he liked her. After a long conversation over parasites and endangered species, he had decided to that they would be friends. No one could have too many friends and it would be nice to have a work buddy again. She was smart and ballsy like Catherine and Dana and Sara. But unlike when he first befriended Catherine and Dana, there was a tickle of trepidation that started at the base of his neck.

She held his gaze too long. Her touch lingered on his shoulder and back. In staff meetings, she was riveted to his every comment. She laughed at his jokes and stopped just short of making a spectacle of herself. When it was learned that he was a shoe in to take the place of the new department chair, Eva had been particularly effervescent, if not stunned, when he said he could not take on any more responsibility. He had a family.

"_Your Sara must be something special." _

"_She is. Should have married her years ago. My friend Dana tells me everything happens as it should so…"_

About that time, it became apparent to the entire Biology Department that Dr. Eva Dubois had set her sights on Dr. Gil Grissom. She circled him like one of her beloved tigers watching its prey. The childless divorcee coordinated her schedule so that she and Grissom visited the campus gym at the same time. She just happened to drop by his favorite café off campus for lunch every few days or so. She wasn't obvious or obtrusive. She presented herself as a new friend and not a potent ional love interest. To another group of people, her behavior might have seemed consistently random. To a group of scientists, her patterns were as orderly as algebraic equations.

Not that any of their co-workers thought Eva had a chance. Gil had been wooed by half the female student body. He didn't seem to notice, or maybe he noticed and just didn't care. Whatever the case, he wasn't that guy. He didn't cheat or run around. He was in love with his wife and daughter.

_The men and a few of the woman debated the topic heatedly over to hot coffee. Gil's wife had put a pot in his office so he didn't drink the crap in the breakroom._

"_If she so much as winked at me I would go for it. Just like that," said Duane Chapman, a sweaty, marginally handsome microbiologist who had been married to a disagreeable professor of dance for 30 years._

"_That's because you don't like your wife, Duane," Marna Gwyn, a gravely voiced Welsh woman who oversaw the department labs. _

"_True," Duane said. "Very true."_

"_Not me. If I had a woman like Mrs. Dr. Grissom at home, one that possesses both inner beauty and outer beauty, I would find no temptation," said Jean Pierre Dupont, a soft spoken Haitian biologist who periodically avoided match making attempts by his large family._

"_She is a looker and nearly as smart as he is, from what I hear," came Wanda Brown, an Anatomy professor who ran marathons_.

Gil Grissom had overheard the half whispered conversation and had shrugged it off. That night he stopped talking about Eva to Sara. He told himself that he didn't want to create a problem. Thing was, the problem already had a head start.

xxx

Gil Grissom painted a lot these days. He painted landscapes and seascapes, portraits of Hope and Sara. Before he got sick, he had not painted in nearly 30 years. It felt good to pick up a brush again. His first portrait of Sara hung in their living room. He painted it when he was sick. It had been her wedding present. He painted her from memory.

Now he stared at blank canvas, brush in hand, wondering if his talent had drained away with his good senses. For the life of him, he could not figure out what he had been thinking.

Greg's voice filled the room. "Hey, big guy. I am no artist, but I think you have to put brush to canvas for it to work. Unless you are going for the Anti-Pollock thing. Less is more."

Grissom gave a short laugh and Greg handed him a brown bag. Gil buried his nose in the bag and inhaled. "Blue Hawaiian. You know the way to guy's heart."

He motioned for Greg to sit on the worn sofa Gil had owned since grad school.

"How's work?"

"Uh, don't get me started. Was it my idea to apply for the shift supervisor job, cause I think I must have been mental."

"What's the problem?" Gil asked as he pulled in an ancient pot.

"Oy. We are paperless, which I really appreciate. But it didn't cut down on MY workload. I think all day shift supervisors do that to nightshift bosses. It's evil really. Sara said you were painting your latest masterpiece."

"Yeah, well, she loves me. She's required to say nice things about me."

"Even when no one else does," Greg shot back. "Oh shit ….I came to get your mind off of things, to show you that I wasn't taking sides."

Gil waved Greg off. "I appreciate that Greg. I know that this has been hard on everyone."

Greg studied the carpet for a bit. "Big guy, you guys aren't getting a divorce are you? I mean, you guys are going to get through this, right? Hell, I haven't gotten married yet. If you guys split up it could be very sticky for my impending nuptials."

Grissom raised and eyebrow. "Did you ask yet?" Greg had been serious about Rebekah Joshy, who was a year ahead of Warrick in med school.

"She is so pissed at me, Gris."

"Why?"

"Forgot her birthday."

"Greg." Gil shook his head as the coffee pot finished his round. He stood and poured himself and Greg mugs.

"I know. I was snowed under. I hadn't showered or shaved or slept in like two days. My mind was on the 12th while the 14th just came and went. She started speaking really fast in Bengali. I don't know what she said but it could not have been good."

"Tip, Greggo. Schedule your gift a year ahead of time. Put everything on automatic pilot."

"How?"

"The internet. Just about everyone has a future delivery option."

"That doesn't give much room for creativity or spontaneity. I mean, what if we had like a really meaningful time and I want to gift appropriately?"

"You just add to the pre-purchased gift. Bekha has specific tastes. So you know she likes silver or red roses or books by a certain author. You aren't being insensitive, just prepared. That way you won't get yelled at in a language you may never learn to speak by a woman who can dissect you and dispose of the body with minimum blood spillage."

"Damn, big guy. I hadn't thought of that. Thanks," Greg said miserably.

"Greg?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Don't let the job consume you. It's not worth it. Learn from my mistakes. ALL of my mistakes."

Greg nodded sadly. Gil Grissom always taught him something.

xxx

"So how are things?" Catherine asked.

Sara gave a weak smile. "Better. Not great."

Catherine put a plate between them. It was heavy with finger sandwiches, fruit and brownies. Sara filled her own bright yellow plate with pimento cheese sandwiches, while Catherine poured ice tea from a heavy mustard colored glass pitcher.

Catherine eyed her and sat across from her friend. "I don't understand how you manage to stay so calm during all this, Sara. I mean, you act like nothing has happened."

Sara took out the sheets of paper she had written her plan on and handed them to Catherine. The blonde woman reached for a tiny pair of glasses that sat hidden in a large decorative board. Catherine kept a pair in every room these days. When she turned 45 and had been forced to finally admit that her sight was shot to hell, she had hidden a pair in her office drawer and her purse.

After reading the lists, Catherine folded them carefully and handed them back to Sara. "I don't understand."

"What's not to understand?" Sara asked taking a sip of tea.

"How you can just forgive him and write all this stuff down and have plans. It's like you are blaming yourself."

Sara took another sip of iced tea. "I know this is not my fault. Well, not completely my fault, maybe. Not my fault at all. I don't know. I know that I have a husband who loves me. I have a child and another on the way and a life and a home. So I have to do everything in my power to save my marriage. Besides, I look into his eyes everyday. I don't need to beat up on him to make him feel bad. He's doing that all on his own. Probably more so because I'm not screaming and yelling or making him sleep on the couch."

Catherine gave her a look of skepticism as she added fruit and brownies to her own yellow colored plate.

Sara chewed, swallowed, and wiped her hands on a cloth napkin. Catherine had become quite the hostess since she married Warrick. She had admitted to Sara that it had always been her secret dream.

"He's not Eddie," Sara said quietly.

Catherine's eyes widened. "I am not saying. I never said..."

Sara held her eyes. "Then why are you so mad at him. He was your friend before you were mine. You know him, Cath. You know his standards, his morals. But he's not perfect, Cath. He's just a man. He's a good man, but only a man."

Catherine stared and gave three blinks. "It's just that, with the exception of not marrying you like a decade ago, he's always done the right thing. I just thought he would always do the right thing."

Sara gave a soft sigh. "He's not Sam, either. You have been hurt by some very important men in your life. So have I. But Gil isn't them. I think…." Sara struggled for words that would not hurt Catherine.

"Spit it out."

"I think you are so quick to write him off because he's like a brother to you."

Catherine lifted her chin. "I don't…"

"It's like this. Subconsciously, you're thinking there must be something wrong with him if he's related to me. Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you have been waiting for him to mess up."

Catherine dropped her gaze to her lap.

"I think that most of this is about Warrick," Sara continued. "You are scared that Warrick is the last domino. First Eddie, then your father, and now Gil. You think Warrick must be the last domino."

Catherine raised her chin again and gave an angry little snort. "Isn't he?"

Sara shook her head and touched the paper that was now folded neatly by her right hand. "Would you do any less if he was?"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Eva had been born into a loving French Canadian family. She had been doted on and provided for. Her butcher father read aloud to the four Dupont children every night. Her mother, a highly regarded seamstress, sang to them and kissed them until they giggled themselves to sleep. There were three daughters and one son. They were blue eyed and blond haired and the envy of the entire neighborhood.

She had it all until she met Marcus. Marcus was her thesis advisor. He was moody and difficult and Eva loved him beyond reason. Once he'd graded and turned Eva's final paper he showed up at her doorstep with pure white roses and a volume of William Blake. He was her fairly tale prince charming and she was his princess.

Soon after the picture perfect wedding, she found that most of their substantial salary went up his nose. He was barely solvent and barely coherent. It had been over looked for years because he was an academic and people expected some erratic behavior. His department chair had finally called Eva and told her that the drugs were affecting his work and she needed to get him into treatment. His reputation was shot but he still had a chance of saving his job. Two days after that phone call, Eva's doctor told her she would never have children. No way, no how. There was always adoption, a plausible reality if your husband wasn't addicted to drugs.

After the fourth round of treatment, she left Quebec looking for a new life expecting, that she would find a new husband and they would adopt two point five children. No matter how she tried, she was unable to land a man. So she set her sights on other women's men. There had been two married men, one a university comptroller; the other headed a think tank. She waited for them to leave their wives. It never happened. She changed coasts and perfected her technique. There were very few unmarried men her own age. Survival of the fittest, right?

Then she had seen Sara Sidle Grissom in the gourmet market across the street from the Biology building. She had heard the butcher say something to "Dr. Grissom" and had turned expecting to see her colleague. Instead she got an eye full of legs, dark hair and pale skin. Standing next to her was a blonde child with dazzling blue eyes. Hope and Sara. She had heard Gil speak of his wife and daughter with benign adoration but she was stunned to see that they actually lived up to his ?

"_How's the new baby Sam?" came Sara's sensual voice._

_The man who worked the counter shook his head as he began to slice a white cheese. "She's an angel, Dr. G. I tell you. Sent straight from heaven. But I am too old to have a baby in the house. How does Mr. G. do it?"_

"_Well he eats right and he gets plenty of sleep and exercise," she mouthed the next words. "He has lots of good sex."_

"_That's what got me in trouble in the first place." _

_As they passed Eva, Hope Grissom whined,. "I want to see Daddy, too."_

"_I thought you wanted to go see ice skating with Lindsey and Kramer."_

"_I want to do that, too."_

"_Well you can't do both. Besides, your Dad and I need some time alone."_

_Hope shrugged amiably. "Well, don't let Daddy eat all the good cheese for lunch. I want some for my snack later. And some turkey, too. And some of the chocolate cake."_

"_Deal." Sara smiled, guiding the girl outside to meet her date and hoping that she never had to convince her daughter to eat chocolate cake when she wanted. _

Eva had followed them out of the deli on automatic pilot where they met an equally stunning blonde young woman and an exotic brown skinned child. She recognized the older woman as Gil's niece, a sophomore dance major who hung out in her uncle's office between classes. Sara left Hope with the younger woman and Eva watched as Sara entered her husband's office. Two hours later, she emerged looking freshly sexed and perfectly relaxed. She bore little resemblance to the cool scientist that entered hours before. The halls, long deserted on a Friday afternoon, echoed her giggles as she smacked at her husband's hands.

"_We should go home."_

"_I can't make it home." _

"_You are insatiable."_

Eva watched as clean living, morally upright Gil Grissom pulled Sara back into the office and locked the door.

Eva did not like Gil's wife. She was young and beautiful and had that precious blonde girl that should have been Eva's if life had turn out differently

Eva dialed Gil's cell number for only the second time in a month. He was avoiding her. She understood that. The scene with the wife had been unpleasant but not overly dramatic.

"Grissom."

"Hello."

Silence and a heavy sigh followed the salutation.

"Yes," he said stiffly.

"I just wanted to apologize."

"No need for that."

"Oh?"

"It was my fault. I am the one who's married, not you."

"Where are you living now?" Scuttlebutt around the department was that Gil had relocated to a hotel.

"Where am I living?" Gil saw Sara out of the corner of his eye. She mouthed that they were going to be late for Brass' birthday party.

He smiled. He kissed her hand and held her close to him. "I am late for a family function. My wife is giving me the evil eye. You know how that is."

The line went dead.

xxxxxxx

Brass was giddy. All the boys were giddy. Big boys and little boys. Dana had bought some super duper TV that projected either a gigantic picture in the backyard or a humongous picture in the living room. The boys had decided on the back yard. Sara helped Dana light candles to ward of bugs while the rest of the gang was trying out the picture in the living room.

Dana leaned back and looked up at the clear sky. Sara watched as she rubbed her back.

"Dana Brass, are you pregnant?"

The other woman's head whipped around. "Ssshhh"

"Sssh… spill it now or I will go in and announce it to everyone."

"I pay high priced doctors a truck load of money to get my boys, and now I have just stumbled up on a baby."

She turned to Sara and let out a breath. "Sara, I don't know if I can do this. I mean, I don't know."

Sara nodded her head and looped her arm through Dana's. She settled next to her on a short bench that rested under a tree.

"Don't think bad of me, okay?"

Sara frowned. "What…"

"I know you guys want another kid, but I can't do it. I just can't do it. I can't squeeze one more thing into the day. I can't love anyone else. I mean the boys are-well the boys are smart, mischievous little boys and Sara, I love them. I love them more than anything. But I can't chase one more little person."

It occurred to Sara then that no one knew she was pregnant. They weren't keeping it a secret, just hadn't gotten around to telling anyone.

"What does Brass say?" Sara asked softly.

"I can't tell him. I try. Every morning I get up and I say I am going to tell him but then the boys come tromping in and I just feel so ungrateful and I don't know how to tell him I don't want a another kid after he stabbed me in the ass for a year. The truth is, I _am_ ungrateful. I'm rich. I have this great family and friends that are family. I have a good husband who's only vice is beer, pizza and the Lakers. Why can't I do this? Why am I paralyzed with fear? What the hell is wrong with me? I mean, I should be happy."

Kramer's voice could be heard loud and squeaky from inside the house. "Not Hernandez. He's still hurt."

"I am sorry that this is happening to you. I don't know what to tell you other than you know what you can do. You don't' have to prove anything to anyone. I mean, Catherine had an abortion. I had a scare when I was in college. You do what you can and ask God to forgive you for the rest."

Dana squeezed Sara's hand. "I am sorry, going on and on about my stuff. How are you? How's Gil?"

Sara squeezed her hand back. "It's getting better. Day by day. I think it's going to be okay."

"I hope you don't think I am taking sides," Dana said.

"There's only one side. My family's. The entire family. I was sort of upset with the men for being mean to him at first. But I decided it was good. I mean, he didn't just hurt me and Hope, he hurt the entire family. He has more to answer to than Hope and I. You know it was hard for me when I first moved here. All the lives were entangled. If I told Nick something it was as good as telling Warrick.

Dana looked to the house and then back at Sara. "In my mother's village, if you had wronged your spouse, you were in isolation for month. No on talked to you. You were invisible. Then the tribal elders invited you back and they asked you to explain why what you did was wrong. If they didn't like your answer, back into isolation. I guess this is Gil's isolation and when the men feel like he's back to himself…that's what my mother always said. When you did something out of character. She said you were away from yourself. When Gil is back to himself, the men will let him back in the village."

Sara nodded as sounds of cheering carried through the night air. "You know Dana. You have a family and…"

"I know. As soon as I started talking about Gil. If I have this baby I am going to need help. I don't' want to be one of those women whose children are raised by nannies."

Sara leaned over and whispered softly to Dana.

Dark eyes met dark eyes. Sara's were pleading, Dana's worried. "I will tell Jim tonight. Tonight. I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Happily Ever After**

**Chapter 5**

Grissom closed his eyes and thanked God for quiet. Sara was asleep and Hope had talked herself to sleep after dinner. He didn't like climbing into bed while Sara was still awake. He wanted to have sex. He wanted to have sex very badly. He had not been inside his Sara since the incident. He knew he didn't deserve to be so he didn't complain and tried not to think about it. He spent half his night on the ancient sofa in his office and only stumbled to bed when was it was almost an impossibility that he would wake her. He refused to let Sara wake up to find his side of the bed empty. That would only cause more issues. She would wonder if he had snuck out, if he didn't want to be around her.

Then there was Eva. She didn't call often. But she called enough for it to be an issue. He tried not to think to much about what had gone on. It had clouded his first weeks back home. So much so that Hope would often ask why he had his sad face on.

"_I didn't stomp on the bug Daddy. I put it on the paper and took it outside like you told me."_

"_Did the baseball people lose a game? I forget which one ones you like. Kramer said your team is a loser but I told her she was wrong."_

For the sake of his daughter and his sanity, he blocked out Eva and the kiss and Sara finding them. By some miracle he had been saved from an all male intervention that he had been sure was imminent. What would he say? The man who thought logically and clearly had no explanation.

Did he love his wife? Yes.

Was he happily married? Happier each day.

Was his sex life good? Wonderful .

Then what in God's name had he been doing? Gil Grissom had walked right into the thing with Eva. Not blindly, as he previously thought. No, he had seen the woman coming a mile away. He was a smart, handsome, fairly intriguing man. He knew when a woman wanted him. He knew what it looked like and felt like. He dealt with it every semester as Madison or Jennifer or Laurie made some transparent play for his attentions. He came home and laughed about it with Sara. When they saw his long legged, dark haired beauty striding through the halls to give a special lecture on Theoretical Physics or to teach the odd chemistry class, they were either spurred on by the challenge or retreated with envy.

His phone let out a sound to indicate that he had a voice mail. He picked it up. Eva. This was becoming tiresome. She didn't call every day but she did call and he had done something awfully stupid hoping to make her stop. They had met for coffee and he explained to her that she was a lovely woman but he had a wife. He had made a terrible mistake, sure that rational thought would prevail with a fellow scientist.

She had nodded and made understanding noises. They had walked to her car where she proceeded to grab his crotch. Stunned and feeling like an idiot, he had pushed her away, turned tail, and run. Why men thought they would ever understand women escaped him. He had met the woman with the hopes of squashing the phone calls. Now he had created another secret. Sara didn't know about the phone calls and she didn't know about the meeting. He tossed around the idea of telling her, but couldn't summon up much courage, keenly aware that he was making a dreadful mistake.

Sara stared at the clock. It was two A.M and he still wasn't in bed. Four weeks. It had been four weeks since her husband had made love to her. Was it because he was sleeping with someone else? He rarely had his phone these days, saying that he forgot it since it was summer. Being at home got him out of the habit of carrying it everywhere. He was at home all the time now. Hovering like he did when he came back from being sick. Only this time it was more like a shadow of Grissom. He kissed her and hugged her and generally showed affection. But he made no attempt to make love to her.

When would he have time to continue his-what was it? His flirtation with Eva? No, it had been more than a flirtation. An affair. She loathed to use the word but it more accurately represented the situation.

She was resisting every urge she had to check his cell phone bill or listen to his voicemail messages. She didn't want to become one of those women. If she thought her husband had lied or was continuing to lie about Eva then there really was no hope of repairing the problem. So she did what Sara Sidle Grissom did best. She waited, watched and took meticulous mental notes. She would give him another week of this ghost like behavior.

"Gil Grissom, my patience is running thin. I waited for you while you made up your mind about us. I waited for you when you were sick. I don't know if I can wait for you to finish doing your penance."

xxx

Over the next seven days, he continued with the pattern he couldn't seem to shake. Don't engage his friends unless absolutely necessary. His plan was to do nothing. It wasn't really a plan. A plan would have suggested some conscious thought. There was nothing conscious about his actions. In truth, he had been running on automatic pilot for months. Conscious thought would have caused him to acknowledge Eva's flirtation and the change in his behavior. The distance he had sought to put between him and his family.

A man did not do something for fives years of married life, like coming home for dinner or never forgetting anniversaries and suddenly, for no reason, stop. It wasn't about Eva. Or maybe it was. He couldn't be sure if he was just that attracted to her or simply flattered that some other woman wanted him. Not a girl, but a real woman who showed interest in him. He didn't think it was either, although they were certainly contributing factors. Sara had loved him for nearly twenty years. She had never wavered or stopped or tried to pretend otherwise. This new confection that was Eva sent him whirling through space without the benefit of any of gravities weight.

His phone let out a sound. He looked at the number. Warrick.

"What's up, Doc?" Gil Grissom said into the phone.

"You know, Grissom, after all these years, you can't tell a joke for shit."

"I have you know that Hope Angel finds me very funny. My ladybug joke was a hit at Ashok Ellendula's birthday party."

"Yeah, well, Hope and Kramer think we hung the moon. I figure we got about a decade left of Daddy invincibility."

"Speak for yourself. By that time I will be an adorably crotchety old man. You will just be an irritating, middle age father," Grissom laughed lightly. "How's the residency?"

Warrick let out a clipped sound. "Wonderfully difficult."

"Sounds like the right man for the right job."

Warrick eased the next words out. "I need to talk to you."

Grissom pursed his lips and rubbed the whiskers around his mouth. "So talk."

"I need to see your face."

"Why?" Family scuttlebutt had it that Warrick was striving to remain neutral, reminding the others that Grissom had forgiven them for their mistakes over the years.

"You had lunch near the hospital last week."

Grissom didn't like where this was headed. "Does Sara know?"

"I don't think so. She is resisting the urge to check your cell phone records. So we need to talk. Face to face."

"Brass and Nicky?"

"The don't know, but could find out. Suburban life is small town life."

Just then Sara appeared in the door way of his office. She was dressed in a white short tank dress made of something breezy and light. Her well muscled legs were tan, though she had not spent very much time in the sun. She smiled and mouthed one word. Dinner.

"When, Rick?"

"Tomorrow. Lunch. Your buying."

Grissom hung up and went to his evening meal of turkey meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans.

now.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Shout out to my trusty betas, Onxy, Michelle and Sassy.**

Gil looked around the patio. It was people in varying types of medical garb. Nurses in pink and green and blue scrubs. Doctors in blue and green with yellow strings tying them in place. Various technicians with patterned renditions of Sponge Bob or Strawberry Shortcake. Trauma surgeons sucked down double espressos, grateful for a breather between multi car pile ups and train wrecks.

He smiled as Warrick jogged out of the emergency room entrance and crossed the street. His mind wandered to the possibility of Hope being a doctor. When had he become one of those parents whose ridged dreams were cast onto unsuspecting children? He told himself to be conscious of that. He would be happy as long as Hope was happy.

Warrick called a waitress, a tiny grizzled woman, that he wanted the usual. She shot back in a low Russian accent, "Dr. Warrick, ain't nothing usual about you."

Another woman, this one closer to Grissom's age and devoid of accent, appeared and took Grissom's order. Burger, rare. French fries. Coke with a twist of lemon.

Warrick raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was the only one that snuck heart attack food away from the house."

Grissom shook his head. "Nicky hides potato chips in his desk drawer at work and Brass and the boys hide out in the park eating McDonald's. They told on him once and they didn't get McDonald's for a month. They haven't told since."

Warrick steadied his gaze and tried to figure out what he was going to say. He loved Gil Grissom. He loved and respected him despite his recent moral lapse. They'd all made mistakes, and Grissom had never stopped believing in any of them.

"You're flying fast and loose Gris," he said after the woman left.

Grissom shrugged and sipped on his soda. "I am not seeing Eva."

"Why did you have lunch with her?"

Grissom bided his time and took another drink. "I don't know. I don't know. I thought I could talk to her and make her stop calling me."

"So you saw her face to face so you could stop her from calling you on the phone?"

"I couldn't think of anything else to do," he admitted lifting one side of his whiskers with a jaunty sad grin.

"Sure you can. You can figure out those genius level cross words. You could figure out how to fight a life and death illness. You even put together a bike on Christmas Eve with no instructions."

Grissom didn't speak as Warrick continued his diatribe. "You could change your number. You could block her number or you could just ignore her. Why did you have to talk to her or see her?"

Grissom couldn't pretend that he hadn't thought of it. He was doing one stupid thing after another and he couldn't seem to stop.

"You think you're the only man that has been tempted? Hell, we all get tempted. Sometimes we have a close call."

"You guys don't seem to be having this problem. Just me," Gil replied in a quiet voice.

As he said the words, a khaki colored woman approached the table. She wore scrubs like the rest of the patio assemblage. Hers were pale pink and covered in minuscule green hearts. Long black hair was pulled into a severe ponytail. What looked to be size nine feet were shielded from infectious materials by rubber surgical togs that matched the rest of the ensemble.

"Well, fancy meeting you here, Warrick."

Warrick snorted and gave a tight grin. "Yes, fancy meeting me in the only place I have time to get a decent meal away from my house. Who would have thunk it?"

The woman shrugged good-naturedly and turned to Gil. "Ashleigh Dupree."

"Gil Grissom," Grissom said as he watched Warrick's entire demeanor change. Gone was the open and concerned friend. In his place, a cool ramrod straight scientist. Grissom's eyes went back to the attractive woman. She was a looker. A looker that spelled trouble. She was one of those clients that sauntered in at the beginning of detective novels. She wore a pink ensemble that spelled innocent. But there was nothing innocent about those curves and those lips.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Grissom. I have read a few of your books."

"There are only three," Grissom intoned trying not to draw the young woman into conversation.

"Well then, I guess I have read them all." Ashleigh Dupree showed even white teeth.

Grissom nodded, following Warrick's example of non-engagement.

"We are talking about some family stuff, Ash. See you back at the hospital."

She stepped away from the table, the rubber shoes making no sound. "Only I don't see you anymore, do I?"

Warrick turned away and worked on his ice tea. Ashleigh left. Grissom raised his eyebrow.

"Trouble with a capital "T". Fine, smart as hell, but trouble. That girl has been throwing her drawers at me since she started at the hospital. I thought I could handle it."

"And?"

"I couldn't handle it."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I told my wife."

"You what!"

"I told my wife." Warrick said as plates of food were placed in front of them. The burgers were probably already cooked when they ordered.

Grissom couldn't imagine telling Sara he was attracted to another woman. She had worked too hard on them, sacrificed too much.

"You know that death do us part, best friend, trust her with your life stuff? I figured if I could trust her with my life and my trouble, I could trust her with my dick getting hard over some woman that wasn't half as interesting as Cath is."

"I don't think Sara would take kindly to me telling her that my dick got hard over another woman," Grissom snorted.

"She let you back in the house after she caught you with your arms around another woman. Telling her couldn't be worse."

Grissom played with a greasy stick of potato. "It doesn't seem to be the same thing. What happened when you told Catherine?"

"We talked about it. We figured out what it was that had me in a tale spin. Why was this woman different from other women?"

"Did you figure it out?"

Warrick nodded. "We did."

"Okay?"

"From the beginning it's not been easy being an interracial couple. It never is. No matter where you live or what races you are. Black women - black people - sometimes they don't like seeing me with Cath."

"Oh?"

"I am straight. I go to work everyday. I love my grandmother. I haven't ever been in jail on a felony. People can feel a great sense of betrayal when they see I chose to marry a white woman. I don't think it would be so bad if Cath was a person of color but I went all out and got myself a white girl. Me, the doctor married to this older, ex-stripper, white woman. From the beginning, Ashleigh hadn't been as overt in her disapproval. It was very subtle. She made me feel like I had something to prove with her. I don't know if she was aiming for me to leave my wife. But I think the fact that I would stray with her would have been enough."

"Ah. I don't know - I don't know why I did this."

"Probably should try and figure it out."

OOOOOOOO

Sara watched her husband for several minutes.

He had gone from morbid and sullen to antsy and jittery. It was a bit like when he was struck with a brilliant idea. The next entomological breakthrough. He had chopped most of the vegetables for their dinner but he was still casting about for something else to keep him occupied while the vegetable stew cooked.

"Maybe I will whip up a little gelato," he said, rummaging for the ice cream maker.

"That would be nice," Sara replied. "How was lunch with Warrick?" Sara asked.

"Good," he said sincerely. "It was nice to talk with someone that's not mad at me."

"I am not mad at you," Sara shot back.

He looked up from his work, his blue eyes soft and serious. "I have no idea why not."

Sara thought about this for some time as she watched him move back and forth. "It's not productive. Anger doesn't get you anywhere."

"It might make you feel better," he said softly.

"I don't feel bad," Sara sighed.

"I guess I was projecting."

"Guess so," Sara mumbled.

As he stirred the ice cream mix over a low heat he gave her a sad smile. "You are more beautiful today than when I met you."

"I doubt that. I was 23; my skin was milky and unlined. I hadn't had any babies. And my ass nearly touched my shoulder blades."

"You were stunning. But this," he gestured with his free hand. "This is better. The lines are better. The child bearing hips are better. Everything is better. It's the same reason people are crazier about Lauren Hutton than ever before. Your bone structure. Your carriage. It's timeless."

Sara blushed and it pleased him. "Then why?" she finally said after he had poured the mixture into the mixer. Once he was done he turned on the soundless machine.

"It's not about you, Sara. It was never about you. It's about me and my deficiencies."

"I know that."

"Good."

He walked to where she sat at the kitchen table. He pulled up his usual chair and moved closer to Sara. The baby jumped a little at the sound of the chair moving across the floor. Grissom caught the movement through light material of Sara's robe.

"You guys okay?"

"He doesn't like harsh sounds. The fire alarm went off the other day and he was really upset."

Grissom's lips went to her belly. He kissed the bump. "I don't like harsh sounds, either. I thought it was because my mom was deaf. Guess it's just the way we are, huh, big guy."

Sara's hand touched soft steel gray curls. "I hope he looks like you."

Grissom surprised himself with the next words. "Me too. I used to not like my looks."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They seemed to be a distraction. When I was younger, I would walk into a room and women would be buzzing and men became jealous and no one ever listened to what I was saying. I didn't know what to do about it."

"You never told me this," Sara said.

"Probably because it sounds arrogant. But after a awhile you realize it's just a fact."

"The first time I saw you in the hallway of the science library, you had on a blue shirt. Your hair was mostly dark then."

Grissom gave a closed mouth grin.

"I felt like I had been hit by lightening. I had heard you were gorgeous. But, well, you were - GORGUES."

"I was so glad you saw me that day."

"You were?"

"Yeah, it was my favorite shirt. Catherine bought it for me. After I wore it once to a lecture, all I could hear was people talking about my eyes. I hardly wore it. I wanted people to listen to me. I only wore it when I was dressing casually, for comfort. But it was the only thing I had. The airline lost my luggage."

They smiled and kissed softly for a while. Relief coursed through Sara. Something normal. Something them.

"I miss you," She said.

"I miss me, too."

"Let's work on getting you back."

His forehead touched hers and they nodded together.

OOOOOOOOO

"Birdwing Forensics." Sara worked hard to sound pleasant and professional. She was never going to finish their billing or the paperwork or any of the dozen or so things she needed to get done before Grissom and Hope came back from running errands.

"Shalom, Dr. Grissom," came the familiar voice.

"I thought I told you to call me Sara," Sara said softly into the phone. It was Rachel Haza, the director of the international adoption agency Sara and Grissom contacted when they were considering adopting. They had filled out some preliminary paperwork, had a vague cursory home visit. She had forgotten to nix the process after she found out she was pregnant.

"I need your help."

"Aw…Rachel, I forgot to call you."

"What?"

"We aren't going to continue with the adoption process."

"You aren't?" her normally serene voice filled with stress. "Oh dear. This is problematic."

"It is?"

"Well yes. Angelina Jolie adopting an Ethiopian child has been very helpful. We have families clamoring for the country's AIDS orphans."

"Okay…."

"Mostly the agencies we deal with have toddler age and under. They won't release some of the younger children until we can place the older ones."

"Rachel I don't think…"

"Just hear me out. Please. I understand that you can't take a child full time. But if you just offer a temporary fix to this one kid before interest wanes. We have a chance to place so many children. Children that didn't have a chance before."

Sara sighed and leaned back in her chair. She placed her free hand on her belly.

"This little boy… boys are never in as much demand as girls, which is problem number one. This little boy is about a year old as near as we can tell. He lived in a small village on the outside of the capital city. Neighbors found him with his mother's dead body. She'd been dead for maybe 24 hours."

"AIDS?"

"Yes, but we don't see any sign of it in the boy right now."

"I wouldn't matter," Sara quickly assured her.

"The way they found him. It's as if he was meant for you two."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Shout out to my trusty betas Sassy, Onxy, Michelle and Cybrokat. Sorry it's been so long. Promise to do better. Thanks for hanging in there with me.**

He arrived in the United States with an Ethiopian caregiver that Sara would never see. Years later, she sent her cards for her birthday. If the situation were different, she and Grissom would have been required to pick the baby up in Ethiopia or at the very least New York or LA. As it was, the Grissoms were only set to be part of temporary care so the agency would tack on the cost to the adoptive parent's expenses.

Sara and Hope were waiting on him to arrive, chatting chirpily and working on the last touches of his bedroom. The walls were a pale blue with ships all over it. Fitting for a boy who had lived near the sea.

"Did we win a contest?" Hope wanted to know. She had wanted to go with her father to the rendezvous point, but Sara thought the child's hyperactivity might be too much for the boy.

"Why did you ask if we won a contest?" Sara said, handing a pillow to her daughter to fluff.

"Cause we get Dawit."

Sara smiled. "Well, I guess we did. You know, I was like him once."

"You lived in Ethiopia!"

"No. I had to go live with temporary parents."

"You did? Where was Grammy?"

"Well, she was sick and your grandfather had just died so I had to go and live with the Portman's. But I wasn't a baby. I was older than you." It had taken Sara years to remember the couple's names. It had come to her just this morning.

"Were they nice?"

Sara stopped what she was doing and cocked her head bit. "As a matter of fact they were. It was still hard. But they were good people."

"Why don't we send them pictures and call them on the phone like Grammy?"

"Well-I don't have a good answer for that. I think they would like to see a picture of you."

"Cool."

"Is the baby going to look like Kramer and the boys?" Hope wanted to know.

"Hmmmm. I don't know. He'll be brown like them and Aunt Dana."

"I wish I was brown," Hope sighed melodramatically.

"Then who would look like me? Wilson's not brown. Aunt Marnie isn't brown."

"Wilson's a baby," Hope said reasonably.

"Well, I think Grammy is very proud that you look almost exactly like her."

Gap toothed grin now. "I like my hair," the girl admitted.

"I do too. Although I must admit I thought it was going to be darker, like me and your dad's."

"My other brother's hair will be dark." Hope said pointing to Sara's blossoming stomach.

"Maybe. Anything could happen. Could look just like Grammy or like Grandma Maria. Her hair was mostly red."

They were silence for a minute, each lost in their thoughts. "What if the baby in your tummy is brown, like Daddy?"

"Well then, us pale faces girls will have to stick together."

"Yeah."

Just then a too loud voice coursed through the intercom. "This is Papa Bear looking for Mama Bear and Goldilocks. We have Baby Bear. I repeat, we have Baby Bear."

Before he finished the transmission, Sara and Hope were thundering down the hall.

OOOOOOOOO

Dawit did not like Sara. He liked Grissom and adored Hope. But he hated Sara. He hated for her to look at him, or touch him, or even be in the same room with him. After a week of maternal rejection, Sara succumbed to a bad cold. The stress on her marriage and an otherwise delightful child rejecting her over and over again was too much for Sara. She took to her bed where she lay watching Court TV and eating cereal.

Gil let her be for three days, finally insisting that she see her doctor. He sent her home with the only cold remedy he would prescribe to his prenatal patients and directions to Grissom that he should keep doing what he was doing. Don't smother her. Make sure she ate. Cereal was fairly sound nutritionally. If it lasted more than ten days they would reassess.

He dug out Hope's old baby backpack and hoisted the boy over one shoulder into place. The boy arrived a pound heavier than when they found him next to his dead mother, patiently waiting for the young widow to wake up.

After a week with the Grissom's, he was up two pounds.

He loved sweets and vegetables, like Sara. He was just as happy to crunch on a carrot as he was a Twinkie. He idolized Hope, more for her funny colored hair than her willingness to do anything just to make him laugh. They were taking a walk because Grissom needed to think and because the boy loved any outing that involved sunshine and butterflies.

He was exhausted. Hope was manically nervous because of Sara's illness. The boy was sweet, but still very needy. He clung to Grissom. Sure that he was a male wimp, he had stuck it out three days longer than he ever thought was possible. If school wasn't out, he'd be sunk.

Rounding the block for the third time, his house came into view and he wondered if he had left Sara alone too long. He decided that he had and walked up the walk and back into the house. He announced their return in a loud voice that cause Dawit to jump first, then laugh, legs and arms pummeling Grissom's back.

He needed help. Only a fool didn't ask for help when he needed it. Time for an SOS. They'd do it for the kids. Hate him all they wanted, but the kids they'd fold for.

OOOOOOOO

Sara woke with a start. She smacked dry lips and squinted surprisingly clear eyes.

"Cath?"

"Yep."

"What are you doing here."

"Your husband called in reinforcements. Sit up."

Sara did as she was instructed.

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

Sara shrugged.

"Well that's never good. How're you feeling?"

"Actually, a little better. Not as achy."

"Goody." Catherine pulled a strip from Sara's forehead.

"No temp. We're cooking with gas."

"Where are the kids?" Sara asked.

"Well, there is the ever present kid. He's right here." Catherine patted Sara's stomach.

Sara leaned against the headboard as Catherine pressed a glass of ice water into Sara's hand.

"Goldilocks and Baby Bear are zonked. They were bamboozling your husband. No naps. I don't care how old they are. In the summer, everyone naps."

"You gave them Benadryl, didn't you?"

"Duh. And I would do it again. I needed everyone to be quiet for a bit. I needed to get my bearings straight. And it's allergy season, so I didn't feel nearly as guilty."

Sara smiled. "Where's Kramer?"

"Hovering over them, willing them to get up so she can play. She seems to think that the baby fairies dropped off Dawit at the wrong house."

"Oh God, I am the worst mother ever."

"Please. He's fine. He hates me, though."

"He does?" Sara voice was laced with hope.

"Yep. Hates Dana, too. A little less, but basically, the same hate."

"He misses his mom. He's afraid to get attached."

"Well, I don't care. I have worn down tougher men than he. None as cute, but certainly tougher."

Cath pulled the covers away from Sara's frame. "Okay, so here we go. You in the shower. Me calling for Indian food."

OOOOOOOOO

Dawit did not like the strange people in his new house. There was a thin girl that looked like the woman that lived across the road from his house by the sea. She seemed to like anything that had to do with balls and running about. She seemed particularly besotted with a tall fellow, Brawny James something or other.

There was a brown lady, but she wore sparkly things instead of seashells. He was not interested in ladies of any kind. Regular colored hair or not. Regular colored or the color of sand. Ladies went to sleep and never woke up. He had learned his lesson.

He slipped from the chaotic room in search for the man with the cloud colored hair. He was big and wasn't a lady. He pushed the door open to find the skinny fat lady across a bed, chomping on something red looking. He liked the food in the white boxes. It reminded him of food from home.

Making a sound that stood for god knows what, he called out for the man. He could just see the man's chest rising and falling beside the woman.

Sara contemplated Dawit for several seconds as she watched him make a decision.

"He's asleep, kid. I'm all you got, or you can go deal with Catherine or Dana. The thin pale lady is probably your best option right now. I know that prospect must frighten you. It certainly scares the fill in the blank out of me."

He scooted towards her, one millimeter at time, determined that he would get to his friend.

Sara kept talking and eating. "I know he takes you on walks in the cool backpack and he talks to you in that nice, soft voice. You are just like him. He doesn't like noise either. He just sort of puts up with the rest of us."

The boy watched her lips move. "But you're kind of like me, too. Not much for meat. We both love him."

Grissom was stirring now. Sara willed him to be still a bit longer. "This food remind you of home? All the vegetables and flat bread."

She pushed the beige disk towards him. "This is kind of spicy, but I bet you can handle it."

He took the bread. Sara had dipped a bit of sauce on it and he sucked it off, watching her with black eyes.

"You are quite a looker," Sara said airily.

"When you get older, the girls are going to chase after you. Don't be like my husband. Try not to run too hard, 'k?"

He was standing by the bed now, taking small, gummy bites of the beige disk.

"So I'm thinking that we make a deal. I know what you're thinking You're not getting involved with the likes of me. That's why my husband wouldn't go out with me. Because some bimbo hurt him while he was in college. But you know what? Your mother didn't leave you on purpose. She probably hung on as long as she could to make sure you were safe and strong enough."

"I know her name. Olivia. It's a beautiful name and I am not trying to replace her. But I'm a pretty good mother and if you would give me a chance until we can find you a permanent home, I promise I won't disappear on you. I will come to see you and go to all your soccer games."

He peered into Sara's plate.

"Truth is, kid, this has been a not so great couple of months and I just can't deal with any bad mojo or negativity. AND I am very positive that your mother wouldn't want you to behave like this. So can we at least call it a truce? We won't have to deal with one another too much longer."

OOOOOOOOO

Gill eased from the bed. He inhaled a breath of spices and children smells. How long had he been out? He squinted at the clocked. Two am. He had slept for nearly 12 hours.

"Sorry," he said to a sleeping Sara. "Honey, I'm sorry about everything. I couldn't even deal with running the house for little bit."

Time to get himself together. He was a father and a husband and a friend. Those jobs were not particularly easy but they were his and he was proud to have them.

It was chilly. His search for the kids was short lived as they were cuddled together on the love seat that sat in one corner of the room.

"Stowaways," he mumbled. Picking Hope first then Dawit he placed them next to Sara and pulled a gigantic ancient quilt of unknown origins over the motley crew.

"I am going to do better guys. The old man is going to do much better."


End file.
